


Something More

by unforgetabELLE



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Adrinette, DJWifi, F/M, dating app
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 09:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unforgetabELLE/pseuds/unforgetabELLE
Summary: Maybe it was simply that her romance novel obsession had finally permeated into her typically logical head, but Alya had always dreamed of walking through life with a partner and she wasn’t too proud to admit she was tired of waiting.Perhaps it was seeing Marinette so happy. Perhaps it was finally feeling secure and whole in her own. Or, perhaps, it was the messages archived in her reluctantly-downloaded dating app from her very sweet mystery boy.“Good morning!”Alya smiled, taking in the sweet message, from the timestamp--sent early because he knew her schedule-- to the smiling sun emoji. For someone who kept everyone at a distance, this boy just might break her of old habits.





	Something More

**Author's Note:**

> By unanimous vote on tumblr, here's the promised DJWifi piece :)

_“I feel like I’m talking to a renowned writer. Well, in this case, a future renowned writer.”_

Alya opened the message on the dating app again and smiled for the thousandth time. She was never impressed with the physical compliments men tended to throw out there, but complimenting her writing skill? This boy knew how to hit his target. Alya took a deep breath to calm the giddy feeling boiling up in her before pocketing her phone and trying to focus on the task at hand.

She turned, starting to busy herself at the cash register, when she noticed a pair of very blue, very keen eyes staring out at her from the face of her smirking best friend.

“I wonder what could _possibly_ have you smiling this early in the morning?” Marinette drawled as she swept up in front of the counter. “It wouldn’t be a certain nameless boy writing you sweet nothings from afar, would it?”

Alya stared back at her friend, giving her an innocent smile as she replied.

“Some of us just happen to be morning people, Mari. Not everyone needs to be forcibly dragged out of bed and fed several cups of coffee just to resemble a human being before the morning rush.”

Marinette’s teasing smile fell as she glared at her best friend.

“Hey!” She pointed the broom handle at Alya indignantly. “I’ll have you know that I only had _one_ cup of coffee this morning and am feeling quite chipper at…” she glanced at the clock, her smile coming back in full force as she noticed the time. “Five of seven in the morning.”

Right on time, five minutes until their official opening, a signature knock tapped at the door and Marinette spun towards their first customer.

“Oh, and this newfound energy has _nothing_ to do with your dashing frequent customer turned favorite blonde beau, hmm?”

Marinette spared Alya a glance over her shoulder, giving her an unapologetic smile and shrug, before unlocking the door and throwing herself into Adrien’s arms. Alya just rolled her eyes with a smile, turning to grab the rest of the stock from the back kitchen before they officially opened for the morning, and giving the lovebirds a few moments to themselves.

She liked Marinette’s new boy and was genuinely happy for her friend. She’d invested way too much energy not to approve, watching the two dance around each other for months before she finally forced Mari to make a move. They were adorable and complemented each other like a couple of a few years rather than a few months, but as much as Alya loved seeing her friend in love, there was only so much cooing and cuddling she could take in their presence.

Especially since some nasty green part of her that she eternally hated had always been jealous of the way her friend seemed to be a magnet for male attention.

Not that Marinette flaunted it, or really was aware of it in any way, but growing up, Alya had never dated a boy who hadn’t had a crush on Marinette first. Despite Marinette’s single status for the entirety of their lives, until recently, her friend always seemed to have a slew of guys vying for her attention wherever they went. Marinette was oblivious and awkward and would never believe it, but Alya had spent their university years steering her away from creeps at parties and bars and playing the excuse for a quick escape from nice boys Marinette didn’t have the heart to tell that she wasn’t interested.

And Alya didn’t truly mind. They were a team, and she’d found her dates her own way. Alya’s wit and personality shone through to compensate for whatever immediate appeal she apparently lacked, but her natural cautiousness when it came to her heart still kept everyone at a safe distance. Her few flings were fun while they lasted, but no one got too close. Alya never allowed herself to like them more than they liked her. She never put herself in a situation where she could be hurt.  

But now that her and Marinette had finished their undergrad and were moving on in life, Alya craved for something more. She had watched her friend shine as she’d come into her own throughout university, slowly building a foundation for her online store and finally making enough to afford to move out--as long as she kept morning shifts at the bakery. Then, when she’d met Adrien, Marinette seemed to only glow brighter, finding exactly the right person at what seemed the exact right moment in her life. And together, they were beautiful.

Alya wanted that, too.

Make no mistake, Alya didn’t _need_ a man. Just like Marinette, she’d come into her own during their time in university. She was a successful investigative blogger who was partially fulfilling her novelist dreams by writing short stories on the side. She worked part-time in the Dupain Bakery, and between that, her advertising partnerships on her blog and commision work, Alya supported herself just fine. She and Marinette shared an apartment a few blocks down the road, and were never short for rent. Alya was a complete person... but she still craved to fall in love.

Maybe it was simply that her romance novel obsession had finally permeated into her typically logical head, but Alya had always dreamed of walking through life with a partner, to share her dreams, her worries, her laughter and her tears. She wasn’t too proud to admit she was tired of waiting.

Perhaps it was seeing Marinette so happy. Perhaps it was finally feeling secure and whole in her own. Perhaps it was the fact that she was about to turn twenty four and felt ready for the next stage in her life. Or, perhaps, it was the messages archived in her reluctantly-downloaded dating app from her very sweet mystery boy.

A new notification popped up on her screen.

_“Good morning!”_

Alya smiled, taking in the sweet message, from the timestamp--sent early because he knew her schedule-- to the smiling sun emoji. For someone who kept everyone at a distance, this boy just might break her of old habits.

~*~

Marinette spun out from Adrien’s arms and retreated to safety behind the counter, giggling as he pouted at the obstacle she’d placed between them.

“Oh, stop sulking. You saw me all of last night,” Marinette playfully bopped his nose, but he caught her hand in his before she could move away.

“And most of this morning, too,” he added, placing a kiss to the center of her palm before releasing her with a wink. Marinette gulped, trying to temper the beating of her heart even as her face flamed red. Adrien just smirked at her from across the counter, leaning devilishly closer to her proximity. She turned, pulling her hand from his grasp and grabbed a semi-burnt croissant from the rejects basket. Without warning, she promptly threw it at his face. Predictably, the boy froze as the soft implement smacked him square in the forehead before floundering to save the pastry from falling to its demise. Somehow, with the grace of startled cat, he managed to save the treasure. Far from being upset, he looked up at her with a beatific smile.

“For me? You shouldn’t have!”

Marinette couldn’t help but laugh, leaning over to kiss his cheek as he started digging hungrily into the croissant. Adrien might have grown up on a model’s diet, but he was making up for all those years of forbidden foods. Despite his tumultuous feelings about that period of his life, Marinette couldn’t help but be grateful. The hunt to experience the gambit of Parisian baking was what had brought him into her bakery. It’s what brought him to her.

“There’s more where that came from. Just keep that damn smoulder off your face,” she warned. “I’m at work. I need to be professional.”

“Why?” He asked, leaning towards her again, already ignoring her warning. “Do you find it...distracting?”

Marinette leaned towards him, grabbing the tie that hung loosely around his neck and slowly bringing him closer until her lips just grazed his. She watched in satisfaction as his pupils dilated, eyes going wide in surprise as she breathed against his parted lips.

“Do you?” The words floated out of her mouth and danced across his lips before she released his tie and hopped back to her side of the counter.

Adrien gulped, then cleared his throat.

“Message received, M’Lady,” his strangled response came after a moment and Marinette smirked as she turned to see what was taking Alya so long.

“Switch the sign, would you?” She called over her shoulder, voice completely even and nonchalant. Adrien glared playfully at her a moment, but moved to do her bidding as she rounded the corner to the kitchen. She turned her head just at the right moment to avoid colliding with Alya, who, despite having been gone for at least five minutes, was not yet carrying the rest of that morning’s creations. Instead, she was smiling down at her phone as her fingers danced rapidly across its screen. No, smiling was too banal a word. Her friend was glowing, a spot of radiance in the dimly lit hallway.

Grinning herself, Marinette slinked up as quietly as possible, managing to sneak a peak over Alya’s shoulder before the girl startled at having been caught. Taking advantage of her friend’s rare moment of discomposure, Marinette snatched the phone from Alya’s hand and quickly scrolled through the messages, freezing to genuinely read them as she took in their candor and thoughtfulness. Spinning, she came face to face with Alya, her expression far from angry. Marinette realized she was expectant, waiting for Marinette’s take on what she’d read.

“I’m not crazy, right?” Alya looked unusually vulnerable as she searched her best friend’s eyes. “He’s too perfect. Too...eloquent. He’s probably ugly.”

“His picture suggests otherwise,” Marinette tapped on his icon and pursed her lips in appraisal of the laughing man in the picture, his light eyes and brilliant smile shining against his dark skin.

“But what if he’s an asshole in person?”

“But what if he’s not?” Marinette countered, as Alya started to pull nervously at her hair.

“A raving lunatic?”

“Or completely sane.”

“His real name could be awful,” Alya tried again, glancing down at his unencouraging username _DJLaf_.

“That’s what nicknames are for,” Marinette responded easily.

“I think I like him, Mari,” Alya whispered at last. Marinette smiled, handing the cell back to her friend and placing her hands on Alya’s shoulders.

“Then I think I like him, too,” she whispered back and Alya seemed to deflate in relief under her hands for a moment, giving her a grateful look. It wasn’t often Alya let her guard down like this, and Marinette could only hope that the boy was worth it. That he was worth _her._

Hearing the front bell ding, Alya straightening back up and ducked under Marinette’s hands.

“Enough of that. Back to work!” Alya clapped her hands and started to march towards the front. “We have customers. Go grab those pastries.”

“Hey!” Marinette called, feeling slighted in her chance to interrogate her friend like Alya had done to her during the _months_ her and Adrien circled each other. “We’re gushing later!”

Alya winked over her shoulder, and impish smile gracing her features.

“A lady never tells.”

“And a best friend never relents!”

~*~

Adrien hustled towards the elevator, anxious to be done with the office for the day. Working behind a desk almost made him miss his days of modeling.

 _Almost_.

It was only until he finished grad school, he reminded himself as he often did while he existed within the walls of his father’s building. Then he could leave the halls of Gabriel, Inc behind, maybe only visiting occasionally as the owner’s son, and would no longer have to be some walking embodiment of nepotism.

The highly polished metal doors dinged open, and Adrien turned his mind to other thoughts. Happier thoughts. Specifically, the image of a raven-haired girl, leaning against a red vespa as she waited for him on the sidewalk. He smiled involuntarily, waving at her through the security gate and glass doors that separated them. He could see Marinette chuckling from a distance as she waved shyly back, ducking her head nervously as eyes of other escaping professionals looked between the two in amusement. He hated that she was so uncomfortable with this place, though he understood what Gabriel, Inc meant to the up-and-coming fashion designer. He was just lucky she hadn’t recognized him when they met. Blonde hair having darkened over the years and now cropped close to his head, twenty-five year old Adrien had deviated from the luscious blonde locks of his former model-days. Add in the thick tortoise shell glasses he had never been allowed to wear during photoshoots, and he was pretty unrecognizable at first glance. By the time Marinette had finally figured out _why_ he looked so familiar, he had already charmed her… or so he chose to believe. While she continually reminds him that she loved him _despite_ his horrible puns, he’ll never buy it.

He dropped his phone and wallet in the bin and went through the security scanner, a ridiculous addition by his father. To make sure no one either accidentally or purposefully took proprietary designs out of the office, each sketchbook was RFID chipped and stored in a room where no cell phones or other recording equipment was allowed. To say Gabriel had become paranoid in his old age was an understatement. Usually Adrien didn’t mind, but today it was just one more obstacle between him and his girlfriend. Walking through clean, as always, he grabbed his phone and started to jog towards Marinette, not stopping until he’d burst through the door and wrapped her in his arms.

The sun was shining, and Marinette was warm and smelling like her lavender shampoo and brown sugar in his arms. Adrien closed his eyes and let the scent of her envelop him, taking over his senses. She hummed happily, nails lightly scratching his back as she huddled closer and nestled under his chin. It was a quintessential moment of happiness, but that was how Marinette made every moment, it seemed. Even in the few times they’d fought since getting together. He’d rather fight with her than live one more day in the gray tedium that was his life before they’d met.

Then his phone rang, and he groaned as the moment shattered. Marinette simply, chuckled, extracting herself from his arms and moving to sit on the seat of her scooter.

“Hello?” He answered, pouting at Marinette even while she rolled her eyes at him.

“Hey, man!”

“Oh,” he smiled genuinely, hearing Nino’s voice. “What’s up man?”

 _Who is it?_ Marinette mouthed.

“It’s Nino,” he responded, happy when he saw the fond look that crossed her face at the mention of his best friend.

“Hi, Nino!” She called jubilantly, and he chuckled.

“Oh, shit, bro. I didn’t me to interrupt you and Mari.”

“It’s no problem. She was just picking me up from work,” Adrien leaned down, placing a kiss on Marinette’s cheek and motioning for her to hand him the extra helmet.

“God, you two are already so domestic,” Nino sighed. “Fucking adorable.”

“You’ll be there soon enough,” Adrien retorted. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you glued to your phone recently. When do I get to meet the lucky lady?”

“Definitely _after_ I do.”

“Nino,” Adrien deadpanned, admonishing his friend with his tone.

“Not all of us get a bakery meet-cute, bro! Some of use have to wade through the trudge of dating apps and uncomfortable small talk that inevitably sizzles to silence.”

“Ask her out,” Adrien continued, ignoring his friend’s dramatics. “You’re dragging your feet, man.”

“Oh, excuse me. Please remind me, how long did it take you to ask Marinette out? And you even had the benefit of knowing she was a human girl, and not some internet troll!”

“Yeah well,” Adrien rubbed the back of his head with a grimace. “I thought you were supposed to be the better adjusted of us two?”

“I guess,” Nino agreed hesitantly.

“Ask. Her. Out.”

“You say that like it’s easy,” he quipped back.

“It is easy.”

“Yeah, if you’re a six foot, blonde viking and former model,” Nino murmured and Adrien fought to contain his laugh.

“Aw, you’re pretty too, Nino. All tall, dark and handsome.”

“A winning combination,” Marinette backed him up.

“Shut up,” Nino told them both, but Adrien could hear the smile in his voice.

“No, you shut up and go ask LadyBlogger out. And leave me alone until you do.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you.”

Adrien hung up the phone, still chuckling to himself as he went to grab Marinette's spare helmet from her. When he turned, what he saw was his girlfriend, already clad in her red and black spotted helmet, clutching his green and black cat-themed one to her chest. The smile that inhabited her face could only be described as maniacally exuberant.

“Mari…”

“What did you say her name was?” Her voice was a squeaky whisper of barely contained excitement and Adrien smiled uneasily as he responded.

“What name?”

“The girl! The username of the girl Nino has been talking to!”

“How did you put together--” Marinette just gave him a sarcastic look, and he hurried to answer her question. “Ladyblogger.”

Marinette squealed and started bouncing in her seat.

“Nino is DJLaf! How did I not figure it out before,” she shook her head in disbelief and then stood and punched him in the arm.

“Ow!” He protested, despite her deliberately light tap.

“This is what happens when you don’t introduce me to your friends!”

“You’ve met Nino! Kind of...”

And she had, in a way. She’d answered the phone for him while he was cooking their very first week together, and the two had been instant friends, gossiping and joking within half an hour and ribbing Adrien with the efficacy of a well-practiced team. Ever since, Marinette had never hesitated to answer the phone when Nino’s name popped up, often talking to his friend as long as he did. It was ridiculously charming and meant Marinette definitely _did_ know his best friend.

“Not face to face!”

 _Ah_ , he cringed. _Yeah. That._

“Nino has been touring--” he tried to explain, but she wasn’t having it.

“Then you should have pictures! Where are the pictures of you two in your apartment? On your phone?”

“I met Nino in college,” he explained. “After I quit modeling.”

“Oh,” Marinette stopped on her rampage, and looked at him with a soft smile of apology. She knew how he hated being in front of the camera these days. “Fine. But from now on, I’m meeting all your friends. _And_ you two need a bro picture, stat.”

“Done,” he answered easily. “Nino landed last night, so you’ll meet him soon. I promise. Friends met. Mission accomplished.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but seemed to have calmed down from her giddy excitement Stepping up on the sidewalk, she gently removed his glasses, placing them in his pocket protector before securing his helmet on his head. He leaned down as if to kiss her, but deliberately knocked their helmets together, a ritual they’d fallen into over the months. Safe and sound.

“Now, do you want to tell me why you freaked out when you heard the username of the girl Nino is half in love with?”

“Because,” she started, swinging her leg to straddle the vespa and waiting for him to do the same. “Ladyblogger is Alya.”

The breath left Adrien in a surprised rush and he plopped gracelessly behind her.

“Wha--”

“And she’d half in love with him, too.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist as she kicked off and pulled into traffic.

“We have to get them together,” he shouted, knowing what a slow mover Nino was, but then saw her ghost of a smile reflected in the side mirror. “What are you planning?”

Marinette just grinned and took off down the street.

 

~*~

 

Nino dropped his bags in his old room, tossed his glasses on the desk and flopped unceremoniously onto his childhood bed. His parents wouldn’t be home for another few hours, and he relished the thought of catching some shut-eye, knowing as soon as they got home, he’d be bombarded with hugs and questions and the general cooing of mothers. He smiled against where his face was smooshed into the fresh comforter, the smell of the detergent his maman always used quieting the wandering part of his soul. It was good to be home.

He shut his eyes with a sigh, releasing all the tension in his muscles from the twelve hour train ride to Paris and subsequent metro transfers. Humming as his body began to become one with his mattress, his peace and tranquility were rudely interrupted by the buzzing of his phone.

“Nnnngghhh,” he groaned, rolling over and slapping a hand blindly until he found where his phone had fallen on the bed. “If this is another fucking cat meme, Adrien, I will end you…”

He grabbed it finally, lit up the lock screen and squinted at the notification. Seeing the red icon of the dating app, he was immediately awake and scrambling off the bed and towards his desk. Perching his glasses, albeit lopsidedly, on his nose, Nino tried three times before successfully unlocking his phone and opening the application.

_“Important question”_

Nino smiled at the blunt message, completely out of the blue and without any meaningless preamble.

_“Shoot”_

_“Are you a spring or an autumn?”_ her message came back almost instantaneously and Nino chuckled under his breath.

 _“Spring,”_ he typed back, smirk still plastered along his face.

_“How the hell do you know that?”_

_“I look fabulous in cool blue tones,”_ he sent the message before adding another. “ _Besides, I have moms squared_ _and have been subjected to their scrutiny with every new issue of Cosmo”_

 _“So you expect me to believe that_ **_you yourself_ ** _never took one of those quizzes? You seem awfully sure in your autumn-status for it to be from second-hand designation”_

Nino smiled broader at her accusation, flopping back on his bed as he typed his response.

_“I never said that. You just assumed ;)”_

“ _Good,”_ her message came through, three blinking dots staring up at him mockingly as she typed the rest of her reply. “ _Now I need your proclaimed expertise, because I have no idea what I am and have a best friend who is demanding I model for either her fall or spring portfolio”_

_“You know fashion line palettes don’t necessarily correspond to the season they’re released, right?”_

_“I DO know. I’m impressed--and a little scared-- that_ **_you_ ** _know that,”_ she sent a gif of a little fox raising a dubious eyebrow before continuing. “ _But you didn’t answer the question. Help.”_

Nino smirked again, but clicked on LadyBlogger’s profile, staring at the profile picture he’d already memorized. Curly hair tucked behind one ear, the sun in a halo behind her while the girl grinned impishly into the camera, winking behind thick red glasses that complimented the red tips of her hair. Her skin was a warm toffee and the gray turtleneck sweater she was wearing was far too cold compared to the amber depths of her eyes.

“ _Autumn_ ,” he typed back. “ _Definitely an autumn.”_

_“That was quick. Finish your research already? ;)”_

Nino felt his heart skip a beat, sure ,for reasons that he couldn’t explain, that she knew he’d just been staring longingly at her photo. He decided to just lean into it.

“ _Gray doesn’t do your eyes justice”_

_“No? What color would you suggest, Mr. Fashion-Expert”_

_“Burgundy or a burnt orange,”_ he replied immediately, having no trouble imagining his tan-skinned goddess in a plethora of warm colors, shining like fall in sepia. Nino paused, looking up from his phone in surprise at his own thoughts. _Goddess?_ _Who was he, Casanova? Who thought things like that?_

Nino had never been ridiculously sentimental. He’d dated, but his few romances were far from the Hallmark-movie-swoon-fests he’d been forced to watch growing up...and still willingly watched on occasion. He could enjoy a good sappy romance, but didn’t find himself cut out for it in his own relationships. The women he’d dated in the past had been cool, and he was still friends with many of them, but there had never been that...something extra. That something more. He’d _certainly_ never thought of any of them as a _goddess._

“ _Burnt orange, huh? That’s a very specific color choice. Burnt orange is the key to making my eyes really pop?”_

Her response came through and Nino held his breath, ready to take a chance.

“ _Yes, though I’d have to do an in person evaluation to be absolutely sure”_

He waited, watching as those devilish dots appeared and disappeared, throwing his heart into nervous palpitations as he wondered.

_“Well, if you think it’s absolutely necessary ;)”_

_“I don’t think,”_ Nino replied, a smile stretching to infinity across his face. “ _I know._ ”

 

~*~

 

Alya paced through her room in a never ending circuit between the closet and her mirror, trying to  decide what to wear. She wasn’t an indecisive person, but for some reason the answer to tonight’s perfect outfit was eluding her. She’d seen this predicament in movies, the cliche moment of the girl panicking over the perfect outfit that was supposedly going to set the tone for her perfect date. Alya had always rolled her eyes at the overdramatic display. As if choosing between periwinkle and turquoise was really going to make or break you first date. She’d always poked Mari as she commiserated with the character on screen, reminding her that if the guy was the _right guy_ he wouldn’t be wasting time critiquing her outfit. Marinette would just shake her head at her best friend in confusion and say _that’s not the point._ Alya would shrug and the movie would continue, but she’d always assumed her fashion-conscious friend was just over exaggerating.

She still believed that the right guy wouldn’t care if she showed up in a potato sack, but she finally understood why Marinette gave her that look. It mattered to _her_ because _he_  mattered to her.

Alya blinked at her reflection, moving to sit at her desk as her mind barreled through the realization. Weeks of talking to this boy online, and he’d become a confidant and a friend without even mentioning the subtle flirtations that hinted at the possibility of something more. She hadn’t even met him yet, and somehow this date mattered more than any she’d gone on before.

She’d never stressed about her outfit because Alya was a grown woman who knew how to dress her body. She wore her curves with confidence, and if someone had a problem with the way she dressed, then frankly, she didn’t have the time for them.

But as she looked down at the two dresses in her hands, one a deep burgundy and one a burnt orange, she realized this choice was about more than just looking good. She imagined walking up to him in the dress and his eyes crinkling in amusement at the color she’d chosen. An inside joke between them already.

This date with a nameless man, who god-willing actually was a twenty-something DJ and not some balding creep, was already giving her butterflies and Alya didn’t know what to do with that feeling. And she couldn’t even ask her best friend for help because she’d foolishly decided not to tell Marinette that she was finally meeting her mystery man.

Marinette had been bugging her for weeks to finally ask him out, but Alya had hesitated, reluctant to shatter the blissful bubble of ignorance they were in. And maybe that was the root of her problem. Alya had never been one to shy away from a confrontation, except, apparently, when it came to the confrontation of her own heart. Perhaps that was the real reason why she stood here obsessing over her outfit choice--because if barred her from obsessing over a much more obvious truth.

She was nervous.

She was nervous because, in her gut, she knew this could actually be something, and she didn’t want meeting him to diminish the excited spark she was feeling right now, the way it had on every other date she’d been on in the past. Alya wanted him to be as great in person as he was in their messages, but there was only one way for her to find that out. She needed to get over her ridiculous nerves and meet the man.

Taking a deep breath, she looked herself in the mirror, her eye catching a slip of color in her closet behind her, and made her choice.

After weeks of dancing around the idea of actually meeting, and then days of trying to coordinate their schedules, her and the elusive DJLaf finally managed to find one solitary hour when they were both free. It was right before the impromptu party Marinette and Adrien decided to throw, but that worked in her favor. Should he actually be a weirdo, Alya had an easy, and completely legitimate, excuse to cut the date short. And even if he wasn’t, well, it was always better to leave him wanting more.

Alya hung the two dresses in her hands back up and reached for her last-minute change-up. Slipping the crimson wrap dress over her black shift, Alya tied the bow at her waist and reached up to fluff her curls. With one last glance in the mirror, she pulled herself out of her indecisive stupor and grabbed her purse from where it hung off the back of the chair, hoping with her heart that her gut feeling didn’t fail her for the first time.

 

~*~

 

Nino ran down the street, cursing himself as he checked his watch for the hundredth time. He was late, and thirty minutes was far too long to keep anyone, let alone the woman he had been obsessing over for almost a month, waiting. They’d planned to keep the meeting short and casual, but he should have known better than to make such an important commitment right after an job interview. It was at a good club, and a great opportunity, but the entertainment business didn’t exactly respect schedules, turning his twenty minute audition into an hour.

Nino had gotten the gig. It would be good exposure, decent pay, and mainly, it would keep him in one place for more than two weeks at at time. It was all he wanted, but if it messed up this date...he wasn’t sure if it would have all been worth it.

He’d dropped by his house for a split second to shower. He was already so late and figured the least he could do was not show up smelling like booze and cigarettes, but with the way he’d been running for the last five minutes, he’d probably canceled any attempt at freshness by now. Skidding to a stop in front of the cafe, Nino tried to catch his breath as he walked the last few meters to the door, but froze in his tracks when he spotted her through the window.

She was still here. He hadn’t missed his chance.

They’d agreed to keep it casual, meet for coffee for a bit to see how it went and then go from there, but one look at LadyBlogger in real life, and Nino had the uncanny feeling that his life would never be the same.

She sat along the back wall of the cafe, chatting amiable with the young server who had come to take her order. Resplendent in a red dress that hugged her figure perfectly, her smile was what really made the woman intoxicating. She threw her head back and laughed at something the waitress said, her ginger-tipped curls bouncing joyfully as her eyes danced, pools of hazel whose brilliance was only magnified by the clean lines of the glasses perched on her pert nose.

Nino wouldn’t consider himself a hopeless romantic, but somehow this woman already had him thinking in prose Byron would applaud.

He looked down at his button up, smoothing the front nervously as he internally thanked his maman for taking one look at him as he left the house and making him change. He may be a grown man, but that only meant he was old enough to know that if his mother told him he needed to change, she was probably right. After seeing LadyBlogger, he was eternally grateful his maman took one look at his gray henley and shoved the blue pattern shirt into his hands instead.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself to enter when his phone dinged. Glancing down at his phone, he was shocked to see a message from the woman herself. Nino looked back up at the window, and his heart stopped when he saw her empty seat at the back of the cafe. Unlocking his phone with shaking fingers, he opened the message and cursed violently.

_I couldn’t wait any longer._

He went to type a response, only to find his old message still sitting in the text box.

He cursed louder.

Of course she left. He was half an hour late, and _apparently_ , in his haste after the audition, he had managed to not even hit _send_ on the message explaining his delay.

Making him the epitome of an ass. An accidental ass, but an ass nonetheless.

Taking his glasses off, he furiously rubbed at his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose in agitation. He’d listened to lecture after lecture from his moms about how online dating was making his generation too impersonal, but he’d sworn he would never be _that guy_ : the one that makes plans he doesn’t keep and ghosts people for no reason. And yet, for all intents and purposes, he’d done just that, to probably the most amazing person he’d ever met on the the stupid app.

Nino sighed, pulling himself out of his own personal pity party, and tried to make it right. Sitting himself down on a sidewalk bend, he began to compose a novel of a message, explaining what had happened and apologizing profusely.

Still, he wasn’t enough of an idiot to think he’d get a second chance. For all their late night texts and surprisingly real conversations, LadyBlogger didn’t know him. They’d never met face to face, and she probably wouldn’t even believe his explanations, pushing them off as excuses for someone who stood her up and then felt bad, or worse, someone who had been playing a game all along. Regardless, he needed her to know the truth, and he was man enough to apologize for his mistakes, however accidental. No one deserved to be stood up, least of all the woman who had captivated his every thought for the better part of the last month.

Nino hit send this time. He watched as the message was read and those three, infuriating ‘typing’ dots appeared, before vanishing again. When a few minutes passed, and it was clear his jilted date would not be responding to him immediately, Nino gave a defeated sigh and started walking towards Adrien’s place. He’d agreed to meet at this particular cafe because of its proximity to his best friend’s apartment, and if the date went a little longer than anticipated, he’d already be in the neighborhood. In his foolish naivety, the one thought he hadn’t anticipated was him fucking it up.

All it meant now was that he was two blocks away, and fifteen minutes early. At least he hadn’t mentioned the date to Adrien and he wouldn’t have to tell him tonight, although that boy was way too invested in his love life and Nino knew he’d have to explain the sudden disappearance of LadyBlogger sooner or later.

He made quick work of the commute, crossing the distance in record time fueled by his agitation at himself, and walked up the the quaint walk-up just in time to see a woman ladened with bags and a stack of ice, struggling to open the door.

“Hold on, I got it!” Nino jogged the rest of the way, deftly punching in the building code like he’d done so many times before, and pulling the door wide.

“Thanks!” The woman called from behind where her face was hidden by her load.

“Can I help? I’m going up to the third floor, so you’re definitely on my way.”

“Oh! Me too. You know Adrien or Mari?”

“Both, actually, but Adrien is my best friend,” he replied.

“You’d be Nino, then.”

“Guilty.”

“I’m Mari’s best friend, Alya,” Nino watched with a cringe as Alya seemingly instinctively stuck out a hand to shake his, upsetting the precarious balance in her arms.

“Woah!” He rushed forward, and between the two of them, managed to right the load.

“And yes, help would be great,” Alya snickered, slightly breathless from the scare and Nino couldn’t help but laugh lightly as well. “Can you grab the bags on my right arm?”

The woman shifted the ice in her arms slightly to allow him more access.

“I can do you one better,” he responded, and quickly grabbed those and the ones on her left arm too.

“Thanks,” she said, and Nino could hear the smile in her voice, her gratitude making him feel a little less of a jerk than when the night began, before she muttered something else. _“It’s nice to know chivalry isn’t completely dead.”_

“Chivalry, huh? Boyfriend troubles?” Nino asked, positioned behind Alya as they slowly made their way up the stairs lest she lose her balance. She was navigating the old starwell with hardly any frontal vision and Nino was amazed she hadn't tripped yet. He would have.

“Dating troubles,” Alya corrected, and Nino winced slightly. “And it’s more like common decency, than chivalry. I don’t need a man to coddle me like I’m some helpless maiden, but I do need him to show up when he says he will.”

“Well,” Nino began. “Maybe something really pressing came up. Or it was an accident and he meant to call.”

“Come on,” Alya laughed derisively in front of him as they hit the second floor. “You do know that sounds like bullshit right? Who can’t even spare a second to text?”

“Maybe he meant to send it, but it got stuck in his drafts or never went through? I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

“More like there’s an excuse,” Alya mumbled, and Nino could feel her quietly seething in front of him. “Are all men the same? Is there some manual they give you? How to Ghost a Girl for Dummies? Because, I’ve got to tell you, he gave me all the _explanations_ you just gave me, but I’m still feel like an idiot for trusting that I made some sort of special connection with a stranger. For believing that he was actually as excited to meet me as I was to meet him.”

Nino remained silent, following Alya up the stairs and digesting her words. She was hurt, that much was obvious, but it all felt like a personal attack on him, and he needed to make her understand.

“Well, maybe he feels like the biggest ass there is, too. Maybe he lived his life determined to be nothing like the kind of guy you just described, and because of a series of stupid mistakes, he not only was that guy tonight, but he was _that guy_ to probably the girl of his dreams,” they reached the top floor and Alya stopped at the door, but Nino wasn’t done. “And maybe he ran to that cafe, the biggest stupid grin on his face, and when he saw you through the window in that red dress that made your skin glow, his grin got even bigger. ”

“Nino?” She tried to softly interject, but Nino realized he wasn’t really talking to her anymore, caught in his frustration at himself.

“But then, in a cruel twist of fate, she disappeared and when he looked down at his sent messages, he realized he’d possibly just made the biggest mistake of his life. And all because the stupid dating app’s send button is too fucking small, and now LadyBlogger will probably move on with her life like I never existed and never knowing that I’m half in love with her already!” He finished with a growl, only to startle out of his anger when the two bags of ice Alya had been holding crashed to the ground.

He looked up in concern, and felt his heart falter in his chest. Because, although she’d clearly changed outfits from earlier into something more casual, standing in front of him was the very girl he’d just been ranting over. In the flesh.

 

~*~

 

Alya listened to Nino rant and immediately felt bad at yelling at him. Just because she was pissed about her date, didn’t mean she should take it out on Adrien’s best friend. He seemed like a nice person, after all, and if sunshine boy liked him, he probably was even nicer than he looked.

Nino continued to talk, his voice getting increasingly angrier, and Alya felt his frustration mount. She had the intrinsic need to console him, but listening to his words specifically, she felt her body freeze.  

_Cafe. Red dress. Messages._

It was as if Nino had reached into her brain and plucked out the night’s events perfectly. At first, she’d thought he’d been speaking hypothetically, playing devil’s advocate and trying to make her feel better, but there was no way he could know those specific details about her date. She supposed he could guess a cafe meet for a first date, but to know that she was wearing a red dress? She’d deliberately gone home and changed into something more casual, jeans and her off the shoulder black top, to avoid any questioning glances from Marinette. Yet somehow, he’d known.

 _LadyBlogger_.

When Alya heard her username slip from his lips, her body started with a jerk, the bags of ice she’d lugged up three flights of stairs collapsing at her feet. Vision unhindered, she finally looked at Adrien’s friend for the first time. Thick glasses perched on his long nose, pure shock echoed back at her from the depths of his topaz eyes.

“You changed clothes,” he finally spoke and Alya tried to swallow past the dryness in her throat. She never thought she’d see this man in person, and after tonight, she certainly hadn’t thought about what she would say to him if she did. She may have been venting to Nino a few moments before, but in all honesty, had no intention of even responding to DJLaf’s shoddy, texted excuses.

Yet here he stood, moments after giving such an impassioned speech about the injustices of a snowball of mistakes, and Alya suddenly felt unsure. She didn’t like the sensation. It should be easy. Black and white. Cut and dry:

_Boy asked girl out. Boy didn’t show up. Boy made some bullshit excuse. Boy, bye!_

And yet, it wasn’t. Something in her believed Nino, no matter how incredible his explanation earlier had been. After all, how on earth would he know what dress she’d been wearing?

“You were really there?”

“Of course I was there. Do you really think I would intentionally miss the opportunity to meet you?”

Nino looked at her in a mixture of desperation for her to understand and exasperation at being disbelieved, but Alya didn’t budge. Crossing her arms over her chest, she pursed her lips as she regarded him. It was all a little too convenient, and despite a gut feeling urging her to trust him, Alya had already been led astray once tonight by her supposedly infallible intuition. Nino’s eyes narrowed, clearly seeing the challenge in her expression and planted his own hands on his hips.

“You don’t believe me,” Nino stared at her, but Alya just shrugged.

“Fool me once…”

“You have trust issues.”

“With a boy who stood me up? You bet I do.”

Nino’s eyes softened, his hands falling from his hips as he took a step closer.

“I didn’t stand you up.”

“So you really expect me to believe you accidentally forgot to hit send on a message that would explain why I sat alone in a cafe in my best dress for half an hour?”

“I expect you to listen when I tell you that I was running to you as fast as I could after my audition went long, rushed through a shower because Sweaty DJ Nino was not the first impression I wanted to make and changed three times because your beauty intimidates me and I wanted to look my best,” Nino took another step towards her, and Alya felt her crossed arms slacken slightly. “I want you to believe me when I tell you that I skidded to a stop in front of that cafe and felt frozen when I caught sight of you sitting in the back corner, chatting like old friends with the waitress, and vibrant like a autumn day in that red dress I hope to god I get to see you wear again.”

Alya felts her arms drop completely at Nino took one final step towards her, feet sloshing through the half-melted pile of ice, but his eyes never leaving hers. His hand reached out and grasped hers.

“I need you to know that I stood there, wondering how I could feel so much for someone I hadn’t even met yet and thanking god that you hadn’t left yet. That somehow I was the lucky bastard that got the chance to woo the girl in the red dress with eyes of the warmest fire and a smile that could already make me weak in my knees.”

Nino trailed off, still squeezing her hand with his eyes intently on her, but his expression was distinctly vulnerable, and Alya knew she’d been right about him all along.

“Is that all you have to say?” She asked in a whisper, and Nino seemed to deflate at her calm reaction to his words, eyes falling to the puddle at their feet.

“Yeah, that’s --”

Alya held his hand tighter and yanked him forward, not waiting to hear the rest of his words and unwilling to let that crestfallen look stay on his face for a moment more. Nino’s head whipped up in surprise, and Alya lifted her hand to keep it there as her lips found his in a searing kiss. Despite his initial shock, Nino wasted no time in reciprocating, dropping Alya’s hand to in turn wrap his arms around her, hands resting gently on the small of her back and her neck as he pulled her closer and angled deeper into the kiss.

Breathless and dazed, Alya pulled away slightly, her mind spinning through the sensation that was kissing Nino. Her forehead resting against Nino’s chin, she caught her breath as she replayed his words in her head, all the passion and honesty and feeling missing in every other man she’d met, flowing so effortlessly from his lips. He was so much...more. He was more than she’d ever imagined. She lifted her face to him, eyes sparkling as she remembered something he’d said.

“Are you really already half in love with me?”

Nino grinned down at her, not a trace of trepidation in his features when he answered.

“I’d be an idiot not to know a good thing when I see it.”

Alya pulled him in for another kiss, quickly becoming addicted to the sensation of his lips meeting hers, but it was cut off well before she was ready as they were interrupted by the squeak of a door opening and a laughing voice speaking.

“Well, I guess you didn’t need our help after all.”

Alya’s head pivoted to meet her best friend’s gaze as she smirked at the entangled two making out on her doorstep.

“You knew?” Alya glared at her best friend as her words registered, but Marinette just held up her hands innocently.

“Hey! I just found out, and besides, you always tell me to stop meddling in your love life,” she winked at Alya despite her words. “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to still try and arrange a _casual_ meeting.”

Alya shook her head, but couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“It’s a good thing I love you,” she responded simply, and Marinette continued to grin up at her and Nino.

“Mar?” Adrien’s voice called, his head  appearing over her shoulder after a moment. “Who’s--”

The blonde boy’s jaw dropped in the most comical fashion and Alya wished she had a camera. Eyes darting between her and his best friend so quickly, he could have been a cartoon character.

“What? You’ve met?”

Marinette motioned with her hand towards the still tangled pair before glancing back sarcastically at her shocked boyfriend.

“Clearly.”

“Hey, man,” Nino’s voice shook slightly with suppressed laughter and Adrien’s expression settled into a pout as his chin fell to rest on Marinette’s shoulder.

“I always miss the good parts,” Adrien stared at her with disappointed eyes and Alya was reminded that the boy used to be a model. She almost felt guilty for ruining his fun.

“Come on, minou,” Marinette urged, grabbing his hand and sparing a wink towards Alya. “I need help in the kitchen.”

The two disappeared back into the apartment, and Nino caught the door before it swung completely shut. Turning back to her, disentangled now but still holding her hand, he smiled in question.

“What do you say? Want to be my date to the party out best friends threw apparently to set us up?”

“Nope,” Alya pushed past him, dropping his hand to trail a finger across his chest as her eyes twinkled. When she was inside, she glanced back over her shoulder with an expectant smile. “But you can be mine.”

Nino grinned at that, dropping the door to wrap his arm around her waist. When he bent to kiss her cheek, Alya felt her heart flip in the most delightful dance.

“As a friend or...something more?”

Nino’s words were spoken with a casual ease, but Alya could almost feel something solidify between them as her decision became clear to her. It was as if her heart had already decided, only waiting for her brain to catch up.

Alya had no illusions of love at first sight, nor did she expect to find “the one”. That was talk of fairy tales and she’d learned that real life was far more complicated.

Still, when he smiled down at her like that, Alya felt the beginnings of something with Nino. Something more than she’d ever felt before. She let herself relax into his side, head coming to rest on his shoulder as Nino remained silently waiting.

Then, with a surety that surprised her own guarded heart, Alya responded with the same ease.

“Definitely something more.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my own dating app foibles, the first message is verbatim, but it did not end with me finding a Nino. I'll just have to keep dreaming, my friends.  
> In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the imaginations of my "what if"'s :)


End file.
